Dragons of the Past and Present
by Lachwen
Summary: HpDragonlance.
1. Chapter One: Of Kenders and Kaos

The companions lounged, waiting, by the side of the road. Caramon and Tika talked quietly- Caramon running her through some more sword practice (and ducking her wide swings). Laurana sat against the back of a broad tree, its brilliant green leaves drooping from the heat. Tanis sat next to her. The two quietly murmured in Elvish, their words blending in with the whisper of the foliage. Flint had dropped like a sack, and was now snoring away. The Dwarf's old bones had been paining him of late, and he was glad for any respite, though he would die rather than admit it. His snoring shook the branches of nearby trees, causing leaves to swirl down among the companions. Tasslehoof, the Kender, was lounging by the side of the road, one of his packs opened, examining his newly acquired "possessions". However hard he 'tried' to stop them, new and interesting items just kept falling into the Kender's pouches. He was examining a glittering and obviously magical device that had somehow lodged its way into his vest when Raistlin appeared. The young mage stooped like an old man, his frail and broken body shuddering with each new cough. His staff, clutched in metallic fingers, was planted firmly, however. At the sight of Ras, Caramon broke off his conversation with Tika to support his brother down the road. As Raistlin passed Tasslehoff, he made a quick grab for the object Tas was examining with interest.  
  
"Oh, is that yours, Raistlin?" inquired the Kender innocently.  
  
"You know perfectly well that it is." Snapped the mage.  
  
"Well then, it's a good thing I found it- it might've gotten lost… maybe even nabbed by some clever thief!" Tas exclaimed. "You really should take better care of your possessions. You wouldn't want to loose one, after all."  
  
Raistlin snorted, but after carefully putting the item back in one of his many pockets, said nothing. He became engaged in a deep conversation with the other members of the party, who as usual left the Kender out. Feeling bored and rather pouty, having finished examining his new trinkets, Tas began examining Raistlin's magical device, turning the knobs and doodads on it. After picking it up again from Raistlin's pocket while Raistlin was absorbed in the discussion, he had promised himself he would return it to Raistlin when he was done – a promise his mind quickly forgot, as the party set up to go. Tas had been wondering what exactly had Raistlin so worked up about this object – so far it was just another boring mage-toy. He was curious to see what Raistlin did with it.  
  
Later that evening after the friends had pitched camp, just when Tas had begun to tell Flint in his shrill voice of the time he had lost a woolly mammoth, Raistlin noticed that the device – he called it a Time Device- was missing again. Swearing to himself that this time he would kill the kender, he marched over to where Tas lay and pulled him upright by the ear. This was much more painful than it sounds due to the fact that Raistlin was quite a bit taller than the little Kender.  
  
"All right. Enough of your foolishness," He snarled. "Where is it?"  
  
"Where's what? If you don't tell me what I'm supposed to have done this time, I can't tell you." Tasslehoff cried with perfect logic. "You just interrupted me in the middle of a story that I'm sure Flint was finding fascinating. Weren't you, Flint?" only Flint's snores answered. He had taken the opportunity while the Kender was otherwise engaged to slip off into sleep without the help of the highly improbable tale the Kender delivered to him with the utmost sincerity – and at a painful octave, too.  
  
"I think that answers that question." Winced Raistlin, as a particularly loud snore hit him in the ear. "Now give me the Time Device."  
  
"Oh! What's it doing in my pocket?" exclaimed Tas. "I thought you were supposed to take care of it!" as he pulled it out of his vest, his fingers hit just the right combination. The whole clearing began to dissolve around them….  
  
The company was standing in a corridor of stone that, although they did not know it, was in a school. A school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Caramon glanced around. Everyone was here…except… that was odd. Raistlin and Tasslehoff were missing. They had been standing nearest the device – why weren't they here? He was just beginning to wonder this - mostly because it really wasn't the very best idea to loose sight of Tasslehoff Burrfoot for even a minute- when an old man in a peaked cap and long robes appeared in front of him.  
  
"Hello. My name is Albus Dumbledor. Why don't you step into my office for a moment." As the world started to dissolve around him, Tas gazed around in fascination. The kender recovered quicker than the rest of the companions. Seeing that he was in an area that he had never seen before, the kender quite naturally scampered off to explore. Walking down the large stone halls, which were quite a bit bigger than usual due to his slight stature, he recalled his uncle's advice: "Whenever you are in a boring situation, turn left and keep turning left until you are free." This certainly counts as boring, Tas decided. There's not even a bugbear or anything! So he turned left, left again, and left again until…  
  
"VALIENT." A short boy in black – was he a dark wizard? Tas wondered, interested. I wonder if he would put a spell on me? – Spoke to a painting of a human in a frilly pink dress. To Tas's amazement, the picture swung open. As the boy entered into the space behind the painting, Tas slipped in behind him. The room was filled with many human children in black robes. They chatted and laughed – or studiously did homework. All kept nervous eyes on the shadows cast by the blazing fire in the hearth, though. Tas slipped deftly through these shadows, taking another left and ending up at the foot of a stairway. He nimbly climbed the tall stairway, looking for adventure. Tas went into a doorway marked6th year (though he could not read it – his Spectacles of True Seeing were somewhere in the cursed temple of Istar). The door was locked, but that did not stop him for long. "This simple a lock – if they really wanted to keep anyone out, they would've used something better. I would ask permission if they were here, but for now I might as well see what is inside. After a few moments with some oddly shaped metal picks, the door swung open. Tas was inside.  
  
There was just one problem, however- the door had been magically warded. Immediately, blue fire shot up the doorframe and formed an impenetrable barrier. Tas, rather than being shocked or scared, merely gazed at the flame in wonder and set about exploring the room. 'After all,' he reasoned to himself, 'I won't be getting out. So I might as well explore while I'm waiting. Ooh! Look at this!' and he wandered contentedly around the room. 'How careless of these people, leaving these things in plain sight! I'm sure they would be mislaid or stolen! Here now, I'll just put these away until I see them so that nothing happens to them…'  
  
The springing of the trap had alerted Harry that something was happening in their dorm. 'Probably Neville forgot again.' He said, sighing. 'I'd better go and let him out again.'  
  
'We're coming with you Harry.' Ron and Hermoine said together. 'Just in case.'  
  
So off the three set towards the boy's dormitory. Harry was very glad that he had such good friends in Ron and Hermoine. They were more than slightly overprotective, though, he had to admit. They went everywhere with him, almost never allowing him any time to himself. Harry had to admit that the war with Voldemort had gotten worse lately, but still…  
  
They climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory, where the flickers of blue flame lit the way better than the torches. Finally they reached the top, where the door had completely disappeared. After peering inside, and seeing no sign of dark activity, (though also no sign of Neville, suprisingly) Harry said the counterspell and stepped inside. Or rather, Harry said the counterspell and Ron and Hermoine stepped inside, wands raised, before motioning Harry to come in.  
  
'Oh! Hello. How are you? Did you know that your door bursts into flame? That's not really a polite way to greet visitors! You really should do something about it! Someday someone will get hurt! How are you? My name is Tasslehoff Burrfoot, Hero of the Lance. Who are you? Are you Black Robes? Will you put a spell on me? I saw one summon a demon once! Can you do that? Please?' All this was delivered in a very high-pitched voice by a tiny creature standing near the open trunk beside Ron's bed – the trunk that Harry knew Ron had locked that morning. The little creature bounced towards them, hand outstretched. It wore bright blue leggings, with a fleecy vest burdened with many pouches that clattered and jangled as he moved. He seemed to be about four feet tall, with curiously pointed ears and a ridiculous topknot that swung with each step. Cautiously Harry shook the thing's hand.  
  
'Who… What are you?' He asked.  
  
'Me? Oh! I'm a Kender, of course! What else would I be? I've been a bird before, though. And a mouse. Do you want to hear the story? Well- '  
  
'That's all right.' Harry broke in, as the –Kender?- got ready for a long rendition of some tale or another, which Harry suspected might not be entirely true. 'How'd you get in here? We locked the door!'  
  
'Oh, that. It was easy. I thought that if you had really wanted to keep people out you would've used a better lock. So I came in to see what was in here. Wherever here is. Though you really shouldn't treat visitors like that. The flame will hurt someone someday! Irresponsible! You would almost think you didn't want anyone in here!' Tas said, frowning. Then his face brightened again. 'Can you do magic? Like Raistlin! I've been in a mage's lair before, too. With my magic teleporting ring. You see, what happened was-'  
  
'I think we'd better take you to Professor Dumbledor.' Harry broke in.  
  
'Who's he?' asked the little man. 'Does he do magic? Is he interesting?'  
  
'Come with us and find out.'  
  
'fine.' The Kender hoisted his hoopak (though the young wizards did not know what it was) and skipped joyfully after them.  
  
Harry led the Kender to Dumbledoor's office. Tas chattered all the way. Harry ignored Tas for the most part, though Hermoine (softhearted as she was) listened to him.  
  
'You said you were a 'hero of the lance'.' Hermoine remarked. 'What exactly is that?'  
  
'Oh come now, Hermoine.' Ron scoffed. 'He was just making that up. You know that. He's just an annoying little bugger.'  
  
'Oh no I'm not! I'm a hero! Me, Tanis, Lauranna, Caramon, Raistlin, Tika, Goldmoon, and Riverwind - we all saved the World. I almost died! I don't think I'd like that. No adventures – though Fizban says that there are. I really don't know. It might be interesting to see. Raistlin saved me – he changed The Dream that we all had. But he became a blackrobe… but he really didn't. He said it wasn't time or something. I don't think he likes me very much. But that doesn't make much sense. You know, most people think Kender are annoying. But they should listen to us once in awhile – we have our uses. They never do though." The kender finished sadly. The next moment he was skipping down the hall again, swinging his hoopak. It made an ear-piercing shriek worse than the Kender's voice as it flew through the air. Tas watched in fascination as Harry spoke the password into Dumbledor's lair and they moved up the staircase. At the top of the stair Harry became aware that there were many other people crowded into Dumbledor's office. One of these, a short and stocky male dressed in armor with a battle-ax on his back –Harry allowed himself a moment of surprise at this fact- immediately stepped out of the crowd towards the Kender.  
  
'Tasslehoff Burrfoot! You rattle-brained doorknob of a Kender! Where on Earth have you been? Not that we would have missed you, but what if something had happened to you?' the other members of the group exchanged wry glances. 'What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? Whatever it is, don't come crying to me for your mess. How much trouble are you in this time-'  
  
'Hi Flint! I'm not in any trouble! I just met these three friends. They had some sort of trap on their door that I sprung. I warned them about it – someone could get really hurt. And then they said I should come here. Are they blackrobes? Do you think that they'll do any magic? NO. I told you – I didn't get in any trouble at all. I was perfectly well behaved (at this point, Flint slyly removed several of Harry and Ron's possession's from Tas's pouches and returned them to their rightful owners.) oh! How did those get into my pouches? They must've slipped in when I was exploring. (Turning to address Harry and Ron) you really shouldn't leave your stuff around like that. Someone could take it!'  
  
'Tas! Come over here and be quiet!' A tall young man with a red beard and pointed ears snapped. He turned to Dumbledor. 'Well, this is the Kender we were telling you about. We'll be able to keep him in line for the most part. He's well meaning, but he's … well… he's a Kender. In our world that would be enough to explain anything. Don't listen to him. He's full of tall tales and mischief.'  
  
'Hello, Tas.' Dumbledor said kindly, taking Tas' hands away from the Remembrall the kender was absentmindedly trying to stuff in his purse. Flint surreptitiously removed some more of Harry's belongings and returned them. Harry realized that the Kender didn't even realize what he was doing. Introductions were made, and the group began to talk. That Doorknob of a Kender!"  
  
Flint's first reaction upon becoming oriented to wherever they had appeared was to look for the Kender. Even though he had been asleep, he knew instinctively that it was all That Kender's fault. The dwarf would never admit being concerned for the Kender – after all, he seemed to cause nothing but trouble. He'd never gotten off to a good start with Tas – Tas having 'found' an expensive piece of jewelry the dwarf had made… forcing them into an adventure with a soul-stealing mage, an irate elf, fire-beings, a Dark God, and much more. Flint earnestly believed he had aged more on that trip, and the subsequent adventures that Tas had joined them on, than he had his entire life. Tas often acted like a child – never quite growing up, always innocent (even as his throwing knives found their targets). He was also immune to the self-preserving emotion of fear. Flint had learned not to be surprised by much – even statements such as 'gee…. Maybe I shouldn't have taunted that Dark Elf…' or 'hmmm. I guess it wasn't a good idea to open the door with five locks, four traps, and warning signs all over it. Oops!' Sensible travelers ducked and got ready to fight or flee whenever a kender said 'oops'. It was probably one of the most feared words on Kryn. As such, Flint never like to let the Kender get out of his sight. However, Tas was long gone. 'Rorix's beard!' the dwarf swore, but he couldn't see the Kender. 'Mark my words, we'll be in trouble up to our ears before long.'  
  
Tanis looked down at the grumpy dwarf. 'He's probably just having around. I admit It would be nice if he was in sight, but don't worry so much.'  
  
'I've heard that before.'  
  
Then a rather old wizard appeared in the hallway. 'My name is Albus Dumbledor. Why don't you step into my office for a moment.'  
  
'Who are you?' asked Tanis suspiciously. 'Why should we trust you? Where are we?'  
  
'Step into my office and see. Don't worry. If I wanted to hurt you I would have done so already. This way, please.'  
  
There was something so trustworthy, so calm and hospitable about the old wizard that they complied. Through corridors and passageways and stairs they went until they had reached Dumbledor's office. Dumbledor conjured up some chairs (including one for Flint's small stature, for which he was grateful. His back had been hurting him more than usual lately) and the Wizard began to talk.  
  
'I don't know quite who you are, where you came from, though I expect you will tell me in time. I do know that I had sent out a spell asking for aide in these troubled times. No- don't interrupt. I will fill you in. No evil or cruel people can pass into these walls. So I know that you cannot harm us. It just remains to be seen exactly what part you will play. I am hoping you will join us. Failing that, I suppose we will try to send you back. I am asking – almost begging you- to please join our cause. We need aide badly to fight Voldemort.  
  
I know you do not know the current situation here. Therefore, I am going to quickly fill you in. The place you are in now is a school for young wizards. Many years ago, a dark wizard calling himself Voldemort besieged the land. It began with mysterious 'disappearances'… then outright murder. All who resisted were killed. The wizards managed to overthrow him – for all time, as we though. Now, though, I am not so certain. Last year there were some disturbances. Then two of our students were kidnapped. One survived to bring back the news that Voldemort had returned. I am one of the few who believe this is true – the people do not want to believe. Disappearances have become more frequent. Voldemort's sign is in the air around murder sites again. Still people ignore the truth. If we are not ready, I fear that what almost occurred fifteen years ago –Voldemort taking over- will surely happen. He would not be kind to wizard, witches, or even muggles such as yourselves. I fear mostly for Harry and those close to him, though. Voldemort wants revenge, and it not above hurting those Harry holds dear. The poor child has already lost so much… and has fought long and hard. Last year was immensely hard for him. He blamed himself for Cedric's death… and then was tortured and cruelly used by Voldemort. He still has nightmares frequently. I do not know if I can explain this to you fully, but I am begging you for help. In these dark times we must parley with all, and come together or surely fall. The lives of so many innocents are on the line. If you could not aide us you would not have been brought… so I can only hope that I can convince you to do so.  
  
In the silence that followed Dumbledor's words, even the irrepressible Tas looked somewhat solemn.  
  
Tanis finally broke the silence. 'Will you allow us to have the night to think this over?'  
  
'You may take all the time you need- within reason, of course. Let me show you your rooms.'  
  
Silently, they filed out of the room. 


	2. Chapter Two: Screams in the Night

That Doorknob of a Kender!"  
  
Flint's first reaction upon becoming oriented to wherever they had appeared was to look for the Kender. Even though he had been asleep, he knew instinctively that it was all That Kender's fault. The dwarf would never admit being concerned for the Kender – after all, he seemed to cause nothing but trouble. He'd never gotten off to a good start with Tas – Tas having 'found' an expensive piece of jewelry the dwarf had made… forcing them into an adventure with a soul-stealing mage, an irate elf, fire-beings, a Dark God, and much more. Flint earnestly believed he had aged more on that trip, and the subsequent adventures that Tas had joined them on, than he had his entire life. Tas often acted like a child – never quite growing up, always innocent (even as his throwing knives found their targets). He was also immune to the self-preserving emotion of fear. Flint had learned not to be surprised by much – even statements such as 'gee…. Maybe I shouldn't have taunted that Dark Elf…' or 'hmmm. I guess it wasn't a good idea to open the door with five locks, four traps, and warning signs all over it. OOPS!' Sensible travelers ducked and got ready to fight or flee whenever a Kender said 'OOPS'. It was probably one of the most feared words on Kryn. As such, Flint never like to let the Kender get out of his sight. However, Tas was long gone. 'Rorix's beard!' the dwarf swore, but he couldn't see the Kender. 'Mark my words, we'll be in trouble up to our ears before long.'  
  
Tanis looked down at the grumpy dwarf. 'He's probably just having around. I admit It would be nice if he was in sight, but don't worry so much.'  
  
'I've heard that before.'  
  
Then a rather old wizard appeared in the hallway. 'My name is Albus Dumbledor. Why don't you step into my office for a moment.'  
  
'Who are you?' asked Tanis suspiciously. 'Why should we trust you? Where are we?'  
  
'Step into my office and see. Don't worry. If I wanted to hurt you I would have done so already. This way, please.'  
  
There was something so trustworthy, so calm and hospitable about the old wizard that they complied. Through corridors and passageways and stairs they went until they had reached Dumbledor's office. Dumbledor conjured up some chairs (including one for Flint's small stature, for which he was grateful. His back had been hurting him more than usual lately) and the Wizard began to talk.  
  
'I don't know quite who you are, where you came from, though I expect you will tell me in time. I do know that I had sent out a spell asking for aide in these troubled times. No- don't interrupt. I will fill you in. No evil or cruel people can pass into these walls. So I know that you cannot harm us. It just remains to be seen exactly what part you will play. I am hoping you will join us. Failing that, I suppose we will try to send you back. I am asking – almost begging you- to please join our cause. We need aide badly to fight Voldemort.  
  
I know you do not know the current situation here. Therefore, I am going to quickly fill you in. The place you are in now is a school for young wizards. Many years ago, a dark wizard calling himself Voldemort besieged the land. It began with mysterious 'disappearances'… then outright murder. All who resisted were killed. The wizards managed to overthrow him – for all time, as we though. Now, though, I am not so certain. Last year there were some disturbances. Then two of our students were kidnapped. One survived to bring back the news that Voldemort had returned. I am one of the few who believe this is true – the people do not want to believe. Disappearances have become more frequent. Voldemort's sign is in the air around murder sites again. Still people ignore the truth. If we are not ready, I fear that what almost occurred fifteen years ago –Voldemort taking over- will surely happen. He would not be kind to wizard, witches, or even muggles such as yourselves. I fear mostly for Harry and those close to him, though. Voldemort wants revenge, and it not above hurting those Harry holds dear. The poor child has already lost so much… and has fought long and hard. Last year was immensely hard for him. He blamed himself for Cedric's death… and then was tortured and cruelly used by Voldemort. He still has nightmares frequently. I do not know if I can explain this to you fully, but I am begging you for help. In these dark times we must parley with all, and come together or surely fall. The lives of so many innocents are on the line. If you could not aide us you would not have been brought… so I can only hope that I can convince you to do so.  
  
In the silence that followed Dumbledor's words, even the irrepressible Tas looked somewhat solemn.  
  
Tanis finally broke the silence. 'Will you allow us to have the night to think this over?'  
  
'You may take all the time you need- within reason, of course. Let me show you your rooms.'  
  
Silently, they filed out of the room.  
  
The accommodations Dumbledor had provided were a suite of comfortable and serviceable rooms that overlooked an adjoining conference room. Each had a fireplace, a bed, and a 'toilet' – that Dumbledor had had to explain the use of. The companions sat in the conference room, by a blazing fire. They were thinking silently over the request Dumbledor had placed upon them. Tas began whistling…  
  
'Haven't we done enough?' cried Tanis suddenly. 'Why must the Gods ask more of us?'  
  
'We cannot just stand back and let innocents suffer Tanis.' Laurana chided him. 'meter cal, chebcoi, dilnye.'  
  
'I'm along for the fun.' Tas reminded them.  
  
'Shh. We're trying to be serious, Tas!' grumped Flint.  
  
'Fine. If you want to be that way!' Tas stormed off.  
  
Blessed silence filled the room.  
  
Laurana tried to clear her mind. She needed to think clearly. The people here were in dire need of help, and Laurana's elvish nature found death and wastefulness repugnant. She was no longer the spoiled elvish princess who had foolishly run away after Tanis. She was no longer even the just as foolish but battle-hardened warrior who had quite nearly gambled the world for Tanis and lost, some time later. The warrior was now battle-seasoned, calm and rational. Nu I mumak. Unibin farea dargurth? Just when it had seemed as if there was to be no more fighting… no more fear… no more loss. How could the gods ask more? Tanis was right. Maybe they had done enough. Surely it was time for them to rest. They all had seen enough horrors, had the lives of all weighing their shoulders down. Even Tas… he was not the same carefree Kender he had been. Even Tas had changed – while he still did not fear for himself, he worried and cared about others. He had almost killed himself trying to save Tika… and he didn't grin the way he used to. There were shadows there sometimes, after all the battles, after the death and destruction and hopelessness. After when Sturm had so nobly died giving strength to the faltering Knights of Solamnia… giving them new dignity and hope even as he fell. Sturm wouldn't back down if he were here. The rigid code of the Knights forbade running from a problem. Sturm had never run away… not even from his death, buying time for Laurana to use the dragon orb. She shuddered at the memory.  
  
'We must help them.'  
  
Flint nodded. 'I thought you'd say as much. Soft-hearted, all of you.' But he did not look angry.  
  
'Yes,' replied Goldmoon. 'It is the will of the Gods. We will help these strangers.'  
  
' What about you, Caramon?' asked Tanis. 'Don't you have an opinion?'  
  
'I don't really care. War is much better than politics, anyway. I just don't want to loose anymore. We already lost so much. But War… nice and simple. Not like peace.' The big man frowned. 'Where's Tas? He was here a moment ago.'  
  
'Probably just in his room, sulking and admiring his new treasures. We should really look through his pouches and give all of the stuff he's acquired back.' Remarked Flint. 'Oh well. I'm turning in. It's settled then. We'll stay and help. Ohhh my bones…' he got up slowly and walked painfully to his room. Soon snores could be heard reverberating throughout the suite.  
  
'Oh well. We should all turn in. I have a feeling that we're gonna need all the sleep we can get.'  
  
Lauranna stayed awake long after the others had fallen asleep. Memories of terror, fighting, dying, and horror kept intruding on her peace. 'Paladine keep us safe.' She murmured, turning over. As if a cool hand had pushed them back, the nightmares disappeared, and soon there was another set of lungs breathing in the slow rhythm of sleep. Cedric! One moment! I'm coming!' Harry called through the dark. 'Almost there.' He told his burning lungs. 'Almost there.' But the distance seemed incredible, and he could not force his feet to go any faster. 'Cedric!'  
  
'Avada Kedavra!' A cold and amused voice rasped, slithering the words unbearably.  
  
'Nooo!' Harry cried, but it was too late. There lay Cedric, as always. He never quite reached him in time.  
  
'Crucio!' the same voice cried. An unbearable pain filled Harry's body. But this time there was no relief, no battle with Voldemort. Harry knew that his adversary's next words would kill him, yet he could not move.  
  
'Do you like the pain, Harry Potter?' the voice asked him. 'What about a different kind of pain? I wonder… what would be the most painful, this, or something a little more cunning. I recently had the fortune to procure a rather interesting device. One use is one you will find rather interesting, I believe. Why don't we test it out?' Voldemort's cold eyes narrowed as he produced an orb, filled with toxic-looking green smoke. 'Let me see… how to activate it…'  
  
As suddenly as it had found him, the scene flickered and changed. Voldemort was no longer in sight. Twisted and malformed trees blossomed into view, like some sort of foul play on spring. The ground smelled of rotten flesh and dried blood. Harry almost gagged, then realized he was not alone. Hermoine and Ron stood by him!  
  
'Cripes, Harry! Know what we're doing?' Ron asked, looking puzzled. 'I don't particularly like the looks of this place. Why don't we see if we can move somewhere a little nicer?'  
  
'No. Not yet. Voldemort said something about a 'nasty surprise.' The last time I heard that, Cedric died. I'm not going to loose either of you.' Harry replied. This was all a dream, right? Sometimes his dreams of Voldemort were true. HE prayed that this was not one of those times. Never before had Hermoine or Ron been with him. If anything happened to them…  
  
The snap of a twig alerted them that there was someone else there.  
  
'Hey!'  
  
Harry spun, trying to look everywhere at once. 'Who's there?'  
  
'Me! You remember me, right! Tasslehoff Burrfoot. Boy is this place interesting. Last time I was somewhere like this was when we all had that weird dream where everyone died and then it came true… that was 'cause of the dragon orb, though. I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to use one of those.  
  
'A… dragon orb?' Harry asked with a sinking feeling, remembering the object Voldemort had been fingering. 'What would it look like?'  
  
'Oh. A big, round glass ball filled with green smoke. One was used against us once, and everything came true, sort of.'  
  
'I have a bad feeling about this…' Harry muttered. 'That sounds like the object Voldemort was using before this whole dream thing. 'What happened, when you were the target of the orb?'  
  
'Oh. We all died. Then it came true, only in real life only Sturm... Stum was the only one who died 'cause Raistlin saved the rest of us,' Tas explained, his voice catching in his throat at the mention of Sturm. 'But it all came true. If this is a dragon orb, we'd better start looking for shelter before things start attacking us.'  
  
'C'mon. You heard him. Let's go. And be careful. Really careful. Let's stay together.'  
  
They set off through the dank and swampy land, looking for anywhere that might be safe. Hermoine followed along after they guys, her nose pinched. She was truly afraid. Even more afraid than when they had followed Sirius and Ron into the Shrieking Shack. More afraid than when she had faced the boggart in Professor Lupin's class. The boggart had told her that she would never be brave enough… that she would fail them all through her fear. Hermoine had decided right then that she would rather die than let that happen. It was still scary, though. What if the boggart had been right? What if she really was good-for-nothing? Her words from first year came back to her. '' 'I just won't let that happen.' She decided. She realized that she had fallen behind her friends and ran to catch up just as the first wave of monsters hit. Dark and formless, they seemed almost to merge. They were almost like fluid smoke or a solid gas. Luckily, they were just solid enough to be hurt by spells. Frantically, she threw every spell she knew at them, regardless of their effect. If she hadn't been so focused, she might have laughed at the results, as the monsters floated in the air with expressions of bewilderment, and burst apart as spells tried to turn pages that they didn't have (the spell, finding no pages, split the monsters open to create pages), and other such things.  
  
Finally, they were allowed a rest. Bloody and exhausted, they began to walk again. There were two more attacks by the creatures. Each time, it was as if the creatures only harried them enough to exhaust them, never to kill. If she hadn't been so tired, Hermione the brainiac or Ron the chessmaster would have seen why this was. But they were just thankful for the fact that neither they nor Harry were dead.  
  
Suddenly, Tas (who didn't seem to be bothered by the creatures for some reason) let out a shout. They looked up and saw a huge castle. It was dark and morbid, with all the usual effects of a haunted house. But at that point, it could've been a mud and wattle hut. They just wanted a place to rest. The four broke into a run – the castle was still a couple of hills away, but maybe they could reach it before they were attacked again. They were too far away. Behind them, the creatures had massed again. With a bloodcurdling shriek that spoke for itself – this time was no jest, this time the creatures were fighting for real- they began to run towards the four friends. 'Just a little further.' Panted Harry. They were all gasping, clutching stitches. The castle was only a few yards… meters… almost there. Hermoine was lagging behind. She was not made for this, and was barely keeping up with the stronger guys. She heard a yell, and suddenly realized that she had inexplicably outrun Harry and Ron. They were facing the monsters without her! She was sure she saw Harry go down…. Then the creatures turned on Ron. 'Noooooooo!' the scream tore from her lungs and she turned and began running toward the monsters, drawing on energy she hadn't known she had. The boggart's dream would not come true… this was a dream… she wasn't going to abandon her friends. As she neared them, Harry suddenly got up from where he had fallen… and she gasped. The images vanished. In panic she looked around, meeting Ron's horrified eyes from where he stood by the castle for a second before the monsters swarmed her under. It had been a ruse, and she had fallen for it. She had abandoned them. Her brains hadn't saved her…. 


	3. Chapter Three: Twisted Fate

Ron was completely winded. Gasped painfully for breath as he reached the castle. Tas was already trying to find a way in. A shriek split the air. Where was Hermoine? She had been right behind him, hadn't she? WHAT? 'HERMOINE!' He cried, to no avail. 'What the-' He heard Harry gasp beside him as Hermoine suddenly turned and raced towards the monsters. 'What is she doing?' She raced back, and suddenly Ron saw the image of himself and Harry lying in their own blood on the ground. But they were here! What where those? She was putting herself in certain doom for them? 'I never thought Hermoine would be so brave!' he thought to himself, mesmerized. 'MOINE!' The images vanished, to be replaced by monsters… Hermoine turned and saw the real Ron and Harry, safe. For a moment, her eyes looked almost peaceful before the caught Ron's. 'I'm sorry.' She whispered as the vanished in the tide of monsters. Ron felt tears streaming down his face, he started towards where he had last seen here, only to be brought up short by Harry. Harry's eyes were filled with tears as well. 'Tas is getting the door open. C'mon.'  
  
'We can't just leave her! Harry you prat! We've got to go… she might still be alive! How-'  
  
'No, Ron.' Said Harry gently. 'She wouldn't want you to go to your death. I've learned that you cannot treat other's sacrifices in vain. Come with me.'  
  
'No! What do you know.' Ron snarled. Harry's eyes became filled with pain as he grabbed Ron and pulled him through the dank opening of the door. Tas shut it behind them. With a heavy thud, they were alone.  
  
'What do we do now?' Harry whispered to Tas through Ron's sobs.  
  
'We look around.' The solemn-looking Kender scrambled to his feet and lit a match. A passageway lead off to one side. Tas motioned for them to follow, and set off down the hall. The little light flickered and cast weird shadows over the walls and ceiling. They went on for about fifty paces, then the passageway branched off. They took the left one, as Tas said 'well, we aren't exactly in a boring situation, but I think my uncle would understand' and set out again. They went through many such passages without interruption. It seemed that the castle was deserted. Surprisingly, and this fact Ron was immensely grateful for, there were no spiders either. The place seemed to be totally devoid of any life. A steady dripping noise filled their ears, and the stones had become wet and slippery. An iron tang hung heavy in the air, but the light hid the source of the water. 'I think we should turn back.' Harry said nervously. 'We're going further underground.'  
  
'Until we wake up, there's no where else to go anyway. So we might as well go this way as any.' Tas replied. Their voices sounded echo-y and muffled in the stillness. The water level had grown. Now it was knee length, strangely slimy and heavy. The iron tang had grown as well; it clung to everything and made Ron feel sick. This far in, a sort of crust had formed over the water, cracking and breaking as they waded in. They were half swimming now, trying not to swallow the rank water. 'I hope it's not toxic, whatever it is.' Ron grumbled. Then his feet touched solid ground. 'Thank heaven.' He began to wade towards shore. As they had begun their swim, Tas's light had gone out. He tried to light another one, but they were too wet. 'Lumos' Whispered Harry. Ron did the same, and they began to make their way by wandlight. 'Just when did you say your dream last time ended?' Harry asked Tas, squinting in the low light.  
  
'When the last of us was dead.' Tas replied with a shrug.  
  
'You didn't seem affected by the monsters – how did you get hurt?'  
  
'I was not hurt because I wasn't afraid of the monsters. I sprung a trap. A simple lock, a simple trap. And I sprung them both. Twice, but Raistlin saved me once. The once that mattered. I tried to save Tika. But I couldn't…I couldn't open the lock…' Tas looked almost somber for a moment.  
  
'I don't like the sound of that 'until we were all dead' part' murmured Harry. They reached the end of the corridor. As they began to turn, a shape solidified out of the mist.  
  
'I am charged with the guard of this entrance. Who goes here?' his spear and sword looked sharp and deadly in the wandlight. Harry and Ron pulled aside for a hurried conversation. 'That thing looks deadly….'  
  
'Is a Harry Potter among you? If so, let him step out so that I may kill him. The rest of you may go unhindered. This sayth the voice of Lord Voldemort.'  
  
'Rather stupid, though.' Ron muttered. 'As if we would admit to being you now that we know whoever admits to that name will be killed.'  
  
'No one here is of that name.' Harry stood up boldly and walked towards the misty figure. 'May we pass?'  
  
'No one may pass until I have slain Harry Potter. Lord Voldemort wishes it known that this passage is the only way out. Without going through here, you are doomed to wander here for eternity, until your bodies decay and you pass into death of your own accord.  
  
They withdrew again, trying to decide the best course of action. 'We've got to get through here, obviously. Otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have created this guard here. Those weapons look too real for comfort though, even if the rest of him is only smog. Ron got up. It was obvious to him by this point that Harry was the one who was going to have to go on. Neither he nor Hermoine would be much use against Voldemort. If this was only a dream, he was going to turn out fine anyway. He was bloody tired of this whole thing anyway. Before Harry could react, Ron stood up again and faced the shadow being. He said clearly and distinctly,  
  
'I am Harry Potter.' Harry didn't know what had come over Ron. He was sure they could've found another way out of this. 'Ron.' He groaned as the shadowy figure, in one fluid movement, drove the spear through Ron's body.  
  
'The one is dead. The way is clear.' The figure vanished, dissolving like smoke.  
  
Harry rushed to his friend's side. Ron's hand was clenched over a rapidly spreading patch of wetness. His skin was pallid, and as Harry knelt down beside him a tremor racked his body.  
  
'Ron… one sec. I think I can staunch the bleeding.'  
  
'Harry, no. You have to go on. You're the one that matters.' Ron coughed painfully, pushing Harry's wand aside. 'I'd just slow you down. It's just a dream, remember?'  
  
'But Tas said the dream he had came real…'  
  
'It doesn't matter. You have to go on. Besides… imagine Hermoine's face when I come up and start driving her crazy again… bet she finally thought she got away from me… y'know at the time I though she was crazy, even if she did think she was trying to save us… I just wish…'  
  
Harry never knew just what Ron wished. Brushing back tears, he got to his feet. 'I'm sorry, Ron. Why am I such a dangerous person to be friends with!' he shouted to no one in particular.  
  
Two left now -Tas and myself. I wonder who'll get killed first. He thought bitterly. Why am I such a dangerous person to know?  
  
They continued along the tunnel. The rough stone was slippery and damp, and seemed to eat up the light of the wand so that it was hard to see anything but shadow. Even Tas seemed subdued as the light at the end of the tunnel grew larger. Harry was sure that Voldemort was out there somewhere, waiting for him… biding his time… he shook these thoughts from his head. No use making himself any more scared. Not yet, anyway. The light grew more distant, a sharp and cold light that seemed dead before it even reached them. Then they were there. Harry paused a moment before entering the chamber. It seemed quite vacant, so he stepped in. Almost immediately he found himself inexplicable bound and gagged. Inexplicably until he heard that cold and harsh voice that reverberated so often in his nightmares.  
  
'Welcome, Harry Potter. I see you are just as foolish now as you have ever been.' It gave a dry cackle. 'Where are your beloved friends? Did you abandon them to their fates? This is all coming true, you know. You cannot change it. You will all fall before me, kneeling at my feet, and plead for mercy before I am through with you. But I think your greatest torture will be the knowledge that you lead your friends to their fates… Wait a moment now. I am expecting a few more guests. Ones that I have just as deep a grudge at as I do with you. I might as well despose of you all at once, do you not think? Oh yes. You are gagged. How do you like being powerless, Harry Potter? Unable to speak or move. Unable to live. As you left me, those many years ago. I died then, Harry Potter. I died when the curse backfired. But you already knew that. What you did not know is that someone else prevented me from returning. To keep myself alive from just such an attack as you had described, I had learned the art of Necromancy. A forbidden Art, yet an all-practical and ever-useful one. The Abhorsen stopped me as I attempted to return to the world of the living. You do not know who she is, do you? She is the one pledged to return to death the undead, and bind those who will not go willingly. The Bane of all Necromancers. It is ironic, because she could be the most powerful of us all… but she chooses to thwart us instead. Each Abhorsen gives her life defending the living against the dead. This one has found her doom all too soon, I am afraid. She will be joining us shortly. The trap I have laid is about to be sprung. Watch and wait. We must watch and wait. One for his doom, the other for his triumph. So alike, and so different.'  
  
Harry could not move, could not even place the voice. It seemed to come from all locations at once, everywhere and nowhere. He hoped Tas was all right, but he doubted that. It seemed that they all would die here. The cause was hopeless… hopeless…  
  
'Kithliun the Wretched. We meet again. You must tell me sometime of how you managed to avoid going past the Eighth Gate.' A tall young woman dressed in strange armor, with a glowing sword unsheathed in one hand stepped out of the shadows. A bandoleer of bells, to hold seven bells lay across her chest. One pouch lay empty, the bell in her hand. 'What good will bells be against Voldemort?' wondered Harry. 'What's she gonna do, sing him to death or something?'  
  
'Lirael. Well met as always. I doubt I will have the time to tell you my story. I will be too busy 'Lirael. Well met as always. I doubt I will have the time to tell you my story. I will be too busy laughing at the fate of you and that young boy over there. The woman looked in his direction, then back at Voldemort. 'Confident as always. It shall prove your undoing.' She raised the bell as if to ring it. 'Saraneth orders you to obey.' A clear note sprung from the bell. It washed over Harry, then over Voldemort. Voldemort shook his head as if to clear it, then stood up. 'You will have to do better than that, I'm afraid, Lirael. I just seem to be too powerful for you this time around, don't I?' Lirael, if that was her name, advanced on Voldmort, her sword drawn. Voldmort drew a sword of his own. Where Lirael's sword gleamed of light, with strange marks and symbols flowing across it, Voldmort's was of shadow. Flaming runes flickered across his midnight blade. They met with a shower of silver sparks. Parry riposte, Parry', riposte, never seeming to quite overcome the other. Suddenly Voldemort whistled a musical and yet frightening note. I learned well from the necromancers of your world. He said. 'I do not need bells to summon my warriors.'  
  
A squelch of feet long dead, followed by the stink of long decayed flesh greeted his words. Into the chamber flowed the Dead, the spirits within them hungering for the living. Lirael was attacked immediately. The Abhorsen was long abhorred by the Dead, as she must forever keep them from the life they hunger for. She cut through many of them, but lost her concentration. In this momentary loss of concentration, Voldemort struck. His blade appeared out of nowhere, sinking through her armor and into her flesh. She slid off the sword, the dead hounding her, and fell to the ground. Blood trickled out of a corner of her mouth, yet she still had the strength for one more action. Pulling the last and greatest bell from her bandoleer, she rang Astarael the Weeper. As she did, the world seemed to skew out of focus. Harry was pulled down, down into a great flowing river, icy cold and swift. The girl, eyes closed in death, floated alongside him. Voldemort and his minions, though, were carried along by the swiftest current of all, deeper and deeper into death. Their howls echoed deep from beyond. Sleep overtook Harry, and he surrendered to the icy flow. Harry's eyes sprung open, as did Ron's. They looked at each other in astonishment. What was that? Ron wondered. Would it all come true? Harry wasn't certain, but he figured that it wasn't a very good omen. Suddenly, the wall opposite his four-poster gave a shudder and became translucent. It swirled with runes and power marks.  
  
'See? I told you I could do it easy.' A voice came from the other side. A woman's voice answered.  
  
'I'll go first with Yrael. Then Sam, then Nick.' A bark sounded. 'Yes, dog. You're coming too.' The portal began to shimmer and shift, and suddenly they were not alone in the room. More shapes followed. One tripped over Harry's trunk with a 'bloody darkness!' He said a word and a glowing sigil alighted in midair. It was like no magic Harry had ever seen.  
  
'This place stinks of Free Magic. We'd better be careful…'  
  
'Who are you?' Harry asked cautiously. They all seemed to be wearing armor and carrying swords for some reason, as if expecting a battle.  
  
'Who's there? Come out and let me see your charter mark!'  
  
'What's a charter mark?' Harry asked, very reasonably, he thought.  
  
He was roughly yanked off his feet. 'Don't be funny, boy. Do you bear a mark of the charter? Answer truthfully.'  
  
'I don't know what you're talking about.'  
  
'He doesn't.' One reported to the leader, who seemed to be a young woman. 'Should we trust them?'  
  
'I don't know. Let's at least try to find out where we are.'  
  
Harry pulled out his wand, whispered Lumos, and prepared to see his nighttime visitors. 'Free Magic' the nearest one whispered hoarsely. Then Harry found himself looking straight at three of the deadliest looking blades he had ever seen…  
  
END BOOK 1 


	4. Alas and Alack this Book is done Read th...

Thank you all for reading my story!  
The next Book, Dragons of the Dead and Dying, can be found at:   
Please tell me what you think: I wrote this series a couple of years ago and want to know whether to continue it. If I do, it will span three books, with characters from Dragonlance, Liriel, and Harry Potter. In Book III the new character will be a reappearance of Fizban!! Book II mostly deals with Liriel and crew, but Book III will tie them all together in a really cool battle between everyone from Draconians to Dead Hands. Heck, I might even bring Oranis or Grindlewold (spelling?) back!  
  
Three guesses which side Raistlin's on, first two don't count. He'll also be showing up later on (how else would 'ole Voldy get the Dragon Orb?!?)  
  
Everyone loves reviews!! C'mon: even flames, though those are liable to make me throw things at my computer XD. Then I don't get use the computer for a long while… 


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